The Boy Who
by Amen
Summary: No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted it, no one was there to catch him when he fell. Neville LongbottomDeath NLSS (sort of, kind of)


The Boy Who   
By Amen   
  
_Once there was boy who had vibrant glow, but as it goes, someone took it from him.   
One day through the rain I heard him meekly moan, he said,   
"Will you wrap your arms around me as I'm falling?"   
Remember when Remember when Remember when we were all so beautiful?   
Never Again Never Again   
But since then we've lost our glow.   
–A.F.I The Boy Who Destroyed the World_   
  
There were some things in this world that Neville absolutely hated. He hated the smell of St. Mungo's hospital. He hated all the stories about girls that Seamus loved to taunt him with. He hated the dizzying dives and effortless grace that made up Quidditch.   
  
But most of all, Neville hated Professor Snape.   
  
It was this funny kind of hatred, that burned and fizzed and trickled like ice water down his spine. It was the blinding rage that made him punch walls and the sinking, dying feeling he got when he was cradling his hand and crying.   
  
It was that particular shade of red that flashed in front of Neville's eyes when no matter how hard he tried, all he got was disdain.   
  
He was purposely stupid, purposely the sniveling crybaby, a disgusting idiot of a child. Why? Because he didn't want disdain from Snape, he didn't want indifference, he wanted hatred. If Neville was ever going to be a proper hero, he was going to need a proper villain, and therefore, he desperately needed Professor Snape.   
  
Neville wasn't Harry Potter (although he certainly had a chance to be) and so he didn't need Voldemort. Voldemort didn't know Neville. What he needed was someone who shoved him down into the mud and trampled upon all of his hopes and dreams with vicious satisfaction, and do it in a way so Neville took it personally every single time.   
  
There are a million reasons why Neville needed what he needed, everything ranging from a dysfunctional childhood to chemical depression, but Neville didn't need to know why.   
  
He just knew that he needed Professor Snape to think he was worthy of hate.   
  
And that's all.   
  
Neville got an Outstanding on his O.W.Ls and Snape actually had to accept him into his Sixth Level class.   
But he made sure Snape regretted that every single day.   
  
Neville knows that the key ingredient in the Post Mortiem potion is blood, but he tells Snape its hair.   
  
Neville knows that the potion has to be stirred counter clockwise, but he stirs it right-to-left.   
  
Hate me, hate me hatemehatemehateme please, just fucking hate me the thinks savagely with every single stroke.   
  
But Snape just wrinkles his nose and says "Longbottom.'   
  
Neville thinks that maybe its time to try a different tactic, so he looks up.   
  
"Snape."   
  
Snape looks totally appalled, which is funny.   
  
"Longbottom, you would not be able to make a decent soup. Or a decent pot of boiled water. I've got no clue as you how you got into this class."   
  
Neville let that wash over him like water in the middle of a desert. God, it felt good.   
  
"You can't talk to me like that."   
  
After hours of contemplation Neville had decided that the best way to get Snape to hate him was scare him into it.   
  
The gun was easy, just a trip to London during Christmas and a simple Obliviate to the man in the shop.   
  
Even easier was bringing the gun up to Snape's face and smiling.   
  
When he shot, it was three centimeter to the left of Snape's face. The class was out in seconds and Snape just stared at Neville.   
  
"Hate me, goddam you!" Neville yelled and slammed Snape into the nearest desk and kissed him.   
  
It was one sided, fierce desperate and very sad.   
  
"No." Snape said and walked out the door.   
  
Neville sat down on top of the desk with his gun his hand, pressed tightly under his chin and pulled the trigger one last time.   
  
Snape wasn't there to catch him when he fell.

A sequel sort of back story thing for the amazing Halrloprillalar's 'Enough' which can be found here: it and have your heart broken to pieces. Read my other stories and laugh.


End file.
